Rebel Heart
by Day-le-Light
Summary: A novelization of Final Fantasy II, with new character development, more people, and a deeper storyline. It contains elements from the original game as well as the remakes.
1. A Loss of Home

**Chapter One - A Loss of Home**

_Some mistakes/inconsistencies were fixed from when this was first published._

In the darkness of night, stars twinkled as pinpoints of light both above and below. All was quiet, but a shaft of light appeared along something long and metal as it moved, and then gentle padding could be heard moving for the city walls.

Some monstrous construction of metal and wood towered to the sky, a huge sling hanging currently limp, a beast of war that sat purring in a lump in the quiet meadow, totally out of place. And alone. They usually never came alone.

All of it happened at once, as though someone had turned on the lights to see hell before them. The sling pulled taut, and something crashed through a heavy iron gate that should never have been broken, and men poured in, clothing dyed black, armour greased dark and riding horses of dark coats so as to blend into the night, long enough, just long enough...

The catapult, rolling forward slowly, as its use was almost done, its protection no longer needed, shot something else, a barrel, that a man inside the city shot with a lit arrow, which exploded and ripped a wall out of a nearby building, killing one of the knights in black. Other such barrels flew at them, and the city became slowly engulfed in flames.

Princess Hilda was woken by her maid, a tiny slip of a girl with thick, wavy hair that she usually had tightly pinned back, but hung loose and in tangles, matching her frightened eyes.

"Sera, what is wrong?" Hilda asked, already pushing herself up, the thick silk duvet falling down around her.

Seraphina pulled Hilda's robes closer together. "You have to hurry and make yourself decent. Your father is asking for you, _there is an emergency_–"

"Calm down," Hilda ordered, grabbing both of the girl's shoulders firmly. "You say he asks for _me_? What kind of emergency is it?"

"There are Palamecian soldiers, and we all need to leave, _please hurry_–"

"Quiet," Hilda muttered, peeling back the rest of her sheets and swinging her legs out. "I'm hurrying..."

And true to her word, albeit not her tone of voice, Hilda did hurry. If there was an evacuation, then she would probably have to ride. Hilda had once asked Scott of Kas'ion for some of his old clothes, ones he'd worn as a boy, to wear for her riding lessons. Although Kashuon women generally dressed as they pleased, Scott had at first refused, saying he wanted to return her to her father as lady-like as ever. But when her skirts proved too heavy, and she slipped sideways from her saddle for leaning too heavily on the side where she'd propped her legs, Scott had given them to her, saying he also wanted to return her to her father un-bruised.

"Sera, pack me some clothes, would you? My other boots, gloves, some coats and hats..." she rattled off a list, thinking the girl might be too panicked and jittery not to forget. Hilda's hands finally dug under the last of her under dresses to find where she'd placed Scott's clothes out of sight and pulled them out, leaving her undergarments to fall in a mess to the floor.

"My lady," Seraphina moaned at the sight.

Hilda knew she was referring to the breeches, but she said, "Don't worry, this place might burn up, and there's no time to put those back. How much underwear do I need on the run, anyhow?"

She pulled on the clothes, the heavier ones of midnight blue, which should protect her some from the cold, but might also make her hard to see this late, dropped a similar outfit to the floor, and rolled the other breeches and tunics into a tight ball and gave them to Sera. "Pack these. But don't pack too much."

Hilda helped with the gathering of the clothes, squashing a remark from Sera with, "We haven't time, do we?" then ordered Sera into the other breeches and tunic. The girl grumbled, but complied, and Hilda tightened one last boot strap, threw on a cloak, thinking to grab a handful of jewels and toss them into her bag before leaving.

She had guessed her father to be in the war chamber for such a time, and as none of the guards responded to the two women scurrying down the halls, was glad to see him and a few of his advisors gathered around the table. King Albert of Phin rose stiffly and embraced his daughter, leaned back to eye the breeches and gave her a raised eyebrow, but no more. Really, there wasn't much he could complain about – they were royal clothes, suited to a prince, and Hilda always thought she looked fine in them. Maybe she could even tie back her hair and attempt to pass as a boy.

"There is an emergency?"

Albert nodded. "We don't know for sure who is attacking, but we believe it is the Palamecian army. It is unsafe here. You must ride."

"I must stay and help you defend the palace." She knew he'd say no, but she felt she had to argue anyway, even after getting ready to leave.

One of the other men in the room stood. "No. If anything happens to your father, which might, as he insists on staying himself, the country falls to you. You must lead us."

Hilda turned to see him. Sebastian _von_ Audisburg, a ducal house near enough to the palace. "How dare you even suggest His Majesty's death!" Hilda snapped. "Why, that's nearly treasonous in itself!"

Sebastian gave her a courtly bow that seemed out of place. "I apologize. I meant no disrespect; of course I pray as much as any here for His Majesty's welfare. I only meant to be practical."

Hilda glanced around the room, saw all eyes fixed on her, Mihn, and Jochem, and others, and worried she had acted too much the "easily outraged princess". Still, she would not let one such as Sebastian have the last word. "No one here prays for my father's life _half_ as much as I do. You may be wise to remember that, _von Audisburg_." She turned to her father. "It is my duty to comply with you. Still, I worry –"

"You have no need. Many good knights will accompany me when we make our leave, as I must. For now, I would like you and your ladies to get safely away from Phin."

"Yes, father."

"Sir Sebastian will be going with you," her father added, "and a squad of palace guards, for your safety." She nodded, glad she had put Sebastian in his place. He may be protecting her, but _she_ would be in charge, she would see to that.

Her father whispered, "I know you hate this, but bear it for me. Many children will accompany you, and it will be up to you to comfort all those whose mothers are not here. Yes, it sounds unglamorous, but most jobs do. I trust you have a kind enough soul to be good to the little ones. It will be a distraction away from your guards."

She nodded, allowed Sebastian to take her bag, and followed him out to the stables. Another minute was wasted on an argument over her horse, eventually leaving her trading in the small mare he had suggested, who didn't look as though she would last, for a destrier that had recently been put out to pasture. A few months of gentle work had left the gelding jumping for action, and Hilda practised her firm hand as she stayed within the circle of Phinian knights. The view of Phin left a painful lump in her throat that she refused to let out. _I will not cry,_ she told herself.

A carriage sat waiting, a small mound of supplies that looked to be bags of food and tied up blankets, nothing more, tied on top. Noble women in disarray and a horde of children scurried. Hilda sighed, dismounting from her horse to help in her duty. She got them inside, comforting a few children much too young to be without a caretaker, and called upon a few ladies she knew to watch them with their own children, eventually sending Sera in to watch the rest.

"Highness, you should go in too."

"I want to see the damage to the city," Hilda replied, closing the door and sliding down the bar. She mounted her horse again and waited, unwilling to argue this point.

Sebastian gave her an angry look and assigned two guards to either side of her. "As it seems her Highness is unwilling to crowd herself in with a bunch of infants and instead chooses to risk her life to assess damage she cannot possibly comprehend, you will make sure she does not get hurt." He looked Hilda in the eye. "Stay behind the guards, or I swear on the oath I made to your father to protect you, I will throw you into the carriage, whether you want to be there or not."

Hilda's lips tightened around the edges in an attempt not to grin. Her amusement showed in her eyes as she held tightly to her horse's reins, keeping him next to her guards as they rode, much slower in order to keep pace with the slow-rolling carriage.

"Heavens," she finally muttered. "It is a pity we don't teach everyone to ride, so we'd have little need for such a thing at a time like this."

Sebastian, surprisingly, only nodded. "They should make it mandatory. Perhaps you could suggest it to the king."

Hilda mused that silently until they came around the bend in the palace wall, revealing the horrific and awesome sight of Phin, at her most spectacular, still in one piece, in all her glory, but wreathed in flame, tinting the sky orange. "Good gods," Hilda muttered. They had nearly missed this, for in a few seconds, ceilings began to collapse, and Hilda saw the bell tower fall, its foundation crumbling to nothing and the walls seeming to explode outwards from a rock being catapulted into its other side. Bricks flew through the air, shattered and spreading like dust, and the bell made a loud peal as if in response to all the deaths that it would normally have acknowledged one by one, but no longer had such time. It hit the steeple of a temple and seemed to break, and the sound was gone in an instant.

It took Hilda a moment to remember herself, and when she came to, she saw Sebastian held her reigns, leading her horse forward. "I'm sorry," she muttered. "I was lost."

"Is that the sight you wanted to see?"

"It will all be gone, won't it?"

He nodded. "The Palamecian soldiers will have left the city by now. They could come this way. We should hurry."

The princess and her guards rushed off into the night, the carriage racing along behind its two stout horses on shaky wheels.

* * *

Frioniel, or Firion, heard banging that entered his dream. Suddenly, there was a giant thing stomping its way towards him. He froze in fear, knowing that in the next step he would be crushed.

"FIRION!" He jerked, woke up to still hear the banging, and wasn't sure if he had actually woken up until he hit the floor. "Unlock your door!"

He got up, wincing at a pain in his hip, and unlocked the door, peeking out at Leonheart. "Leon?"

"The house next door is on fire."

"What?"

"You wake up Guy. I'm going to get Maria."

Waking up Guy was easier said than done. Guy was a bit odd in the way he understood things, "special" was the term his mother used, and Firion didn't want to scare him, so he said, "We're playing a game, Guy. It's where you need to follow us when we run around outside."

"It's late," Guy pointed out. He watched Firion from his bed as the other boy ran back and forth throughout the room, pulling out clothes from the dresser they shared, throwing on some of his and tossing a warm outfit to Guy.

"That's the fun in it," he said, pulling their coats off the coat rack near the door. "You can't always see too well. So you gotta stick close."

"Can I play?" Guy asked.

"Okay, but you gotta put on these clothes. You don't want to get cold outside." Firion pulled on his boots and went downstairs. From the window above the dining room table, a hazy pink-yellow glow could be seen reflecting off nearby walls.

Maria pounded down the hall to their parents' room. "Mama, Papa!" She shook her mother.

"Maria, what are you doing in here?"

"The neighbourhood is on fire. Leon came and got me. He says we need to get out of the house. The fire is spreading." Her mother nodded and started shaking her husband. Maria ran to the railing, looking down over it to the living room and kitchen. "Is there still time for me to get dressed?"

"Yeah," Firion answered. "Leon's outside. He says he'll tell me if the fire comes any closer."

Maria threw on some clothes, then found Guy coming out of his room, stopped him to finish buttoning his shirt and coat and to retie a shoelace – normally, they would just tell him, but there was no time to wait for him to do it right. "You'll trip with your laces like that," she said lightly, getting up and going downstairs with him.

"Are you playing too?"

"I guess so," she answered.

Leon burst in the house, eyes wild. "The fire's on the roof?" Firion guessed.

"Palamecian knights!" Leon said, sounding a little confused.

"What do you mean, Palam–" Leon grabbed Firion and pulled him under the table cloth at the sound of armour clanking outside. Maria jumped into the closet nearby, pulled Guy in with her.

"What are you doing?"

"This is part of the game," Maria whispered.

"Frio never said."

"He probably forgot. Now shh. If you talk, you lose."

A black helm peeked through the open doorway and a few knights walked in. They did look Palamecian, Maria thought, although there was no specific colouring or emblems on them to know for sure. They walked around the living room, coming close enough to the table that Maria held her breath.

A sound upstairs made her heart skip a beat. _Mama, papa!_ she yelled in her head. _Don't come downstairs._

She glanced through the opening between the slightly open closet door and the side of the wall to see her mother's face in the shadows. Her father stood behind her, just behind the wall.

"Maria, I don't want stay in here anymore," Guy said, a little too loudly.

"Quiet," she breathed.

A knight asked, "You hear that?" and one was already clomping up the stairs.

"No, no, no..." Maria sobbed. She saw Leon peek out from under the table cloth, behind the second knight, start to climb out.

Maria didn't think her father had heard Guy, or ever really understood why his wife did what she did, but when the knight got to the top of the stairs, was about to turn to the closet, she ran by him. The knight turned, ran her through in an instant, and then Leon was there, fighting him off. Maria grabbed Guy's hand and ran down the stairs, past her mother, grabbed her bow and quiver, and when downstairs, looked up to see two more figures collapsed on the ground: the knight, and her father. A drop of blood dripped to the floor below.

She dodged the swing of the second knight, who was caught off guard by the sudden injury of his companion, and the four teens ran out into the fiery city. Maria clung hard to Guy's hand, hoping he would drag her along if she couldn't keep up.

"Too fast?" he asked her when she began to lag.

"No, not fast enough. Carry me, Guy? I want to feel...how it is...to run fast...like you..." she explained, panting heavily, and he picked her up and she felt her long hair flutter behind her as she clutched his shoulders, looking over them at Firion and Leon as they chased after the much faster Guy.

They ran near to the bell tower, and Maria screamed as the wall exploded outward over their heads. "Left! Go left, Guy!" Maria yelled. Guy went left down a street away from the falling debris. He stopped as Firion and Leon caught up with him.

"Is it my turn to follow now?" he asked.

"Uh...y-yeah...okay..." Firion straightened and took a deep breath, then ran tiredly down the small alley. Leon caught up with him as Guy trailed comfortably close behind.

"Are you alright? Do you want me to carry you?" Leon joked.

"I think I can manage," he snapped back.

Just outside the city walls, there was a catapult, mostly unmanned, and a few knights on horses. The knights looked at them as they ran by, one of their own appearing not long after and pointing at them. Four of them detached themselves from the rest of the group to chase down the kids, for whatever it was they had done.

The horsemen galloped around them and faced them on all sides. Leon drew his sword, and Firion his knives. They stood no chance; a few sword swings and the two were lying in blood. Guy stared confusedly at the knight before him, who brought down his club hard and cracked into Guy's shoulder. Maria was dropped, and she crawled along the ground, away, away from them...

She glanced over, saw the club coming down again at Guy. She stood, fingers shaking as she strung her bow, and before the club hit a third time, she propped up her bow, glancing over the fallen bodies of her brothers to stare at the one who so mercilessly attacked her sweetest brother...the others had fought back, so fight them, yes, but Guy? Don't fight _Guy_. She pulled back an arrow, aimed for the space in his visor, and shot it, watched it bury itself into the face behind it, snarled, "Take that, you son of a bitch!" And that was when another mounted knight rode at her, lunged his spear at her, and she didn't dodge in time.

Maria lay on the ground, looking up at the starry sky, and saw a helmeted face appear over her. Then she heard Leon yell, "Stay...away...from my _sister!_" and a blade smacked uselessly against the thick, dark armour, knocking the soldier just a little off-balance. She smiled at the fact Leon was fighting for her, he was protecting her, and she drifted off with that...Leon was protecting her...and she was gone.

* * *

The general in charge stood in the ruined palace courtyard the next morning, eyeing the fire-blackened palace walls. "They won't be pleased with all the damage," he said to himself, referring to his superiors.

"Well, then, they can scream themselves into a fit until they explode," muttered the soldier next to him. "They have no idea how hard it was to do _this _little damage. This is a war here. They can fix it."

"Yeah, yeah."

A soldier was laid on the ground nearby, as was customary for all who died in battles, covered with a sheet.

"Just the one, I presume?" the general asked.

The soldier saluted. "Yes, sir."

"Funny," the general said. "That's one too many. How did he die?"

"Appears he was blown up, sir. By one of our own barrels, I would say."

The general turned to the man who had been firing the flaming arrows. The archer gulped under his gaze, knowing exactly how the soldier had died, having been blown up by the first barrel he'd lit.

"You're responsible for his death," the general said mildly. "You didn't pay attention before firing."

"Yes, sir."

"I suppose I should kill you, but I don't want to lose two. You understand, of course. Don't mess up again." The man nodded quickly. The general pondered what punishment would be most suitable, then.

A high-ranking knight walked up, holding a young boy in chains. He was dirty, his shirt covered in mud and blood-stains, and he appeared to be Phinian.

"Kill him," the general ordered. "I don't want any hostages. They're a pain in the ass."

"He's a good fighter, sir. Perhaps the emperor could...you know...convince him to join us. To replace him." The knight nodded at the dead man.

The general mulled it over. Palamecia was an army of technology and skill, not man power. Every soldier they lost was a great deal, and he'd been told he would be spared no more replacements for a few months. "A good fighter, you say? Alright, then." He turned to the previously offending soldier. "Well, I guess this means I can afford to kill you." In one motion, he had drawn his sword and cut off the man's head. "Let that be a lesson," he said to his newer recruits. "With or without replacements, I do not tolerate mistakes." He cleaned his sword on the man's shirt, ordered them to leave him where he lay, and sheathed it, walking away to sit down at the old pub and have a drink.

* * *


	2. A Displaced Kingdom

**Chapter Two - A Displaced Kingdom**

Hilda walked quickly down the large hall of the mansion, having cleaned herself, donned a light grey dress and pinned up her hair with a few silver pins and a thick silver cord not long ago, just after they arrived. She opened the door to the stairs that led up to the chapel, lifted her skirt and trekked up them to find the chapel filled with the injured. It had taken a few days to travel from Phin past the border to this small, independent city-state of Altea. There were already some problems: Altea had used to belong to Phin, and no longer wanted anything to do with the monarchy, but they wouldn't let Princess Hilda starve outside. Some of the people felt rather indignant that the elected official was catering to royal commands, but Hilda hadn't had the time to think of a diplomatic solution to this problem.

"Minh, how are you doing?" She stepped over to him quietly, glanced down at the young man on the cot next to them.

"Fine, I suppose," Minh said, self-consciously readjusting his shemagh as Hilda walked closer. "None of those who made it here are in danger of dying. I think I've done my work for today."

"What about him?" Hilda asked, putting her hand on the pillow of the young man.

"He'll be fine," Minh muttered quietly. "The sigil I placed in here should help to strengthen the life forces of the injured. I think I should go if I want to make it to that meeting awake."

Hilda nodded. "Right. Father asked me to come, too." Minh nodded, apparently not surprised. "Perhaps we could go together? I'm not always comfortable with walking the streets alone."

Minh frowned. "I do understand the political problems, but if they said they were so determined to treat you as an average refugee, then aren't they being a bit hypocritical?"

"Perhaps you should ask them," Hilda said, unwilling to get into another conversation on the topic. It made her angry, but at the moment what could she do? They left together, off to the room her father stayed in, recovering from an injury Hilda had yet to learn the cause of.

She sat awkwardly throughout the discussion, feeling out of place. At least if she ever felt uncomfortable she could just glance over at Minh. He always managed to appear so painfully unhappy during every such discussion – bored eyes and a slight frown on his face – that she stopped worrying over how she might look. Sebastian sat next to her and gave her a curt nod. She stiffened; there had always been a friendly rivalry between them when they were younger. She wasn't sure when it had turned more aggressively to actual dislike, but no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't conjure back any of those previous amicable feelings she had had for him. She knew it confused her father as well, and attempted not to be too forward about it when around him; Minh, on the other hand, seemed to find it quite amusing.

There was talk of the Dreadnought, the empire's new warship. It now neared completion, and there was a doomsday feel to any conversation that included it. They had debated long on how it might be destroyed, but nothing was certain.

Finally, King Albert steered the conversation to a more comfortable topic. He looked to Hilda. "I'm sure you're a little confused as to why Phin was attacked. A rebel army under my control has been in Palamecia, and failed in their most recent attempt to force a coup against the Palamecian throne. I fear the emperor has figured out that we were behind it. We'll have much more trouble from them to fear, I think."

"Not that we fear them," Sebastian muttered. "Our men will bravely face down anything they can send us."

The king glanced Sebastian's way, not as though he were mad at him for interrupting, but as though he truly doubted their soldiers would be so brave as Sebastian said. "It is for that determination in you that I appoint you their commander."

Sebastian looked taken aback. Then he bowed, a little awkwardly in his seat. "I'm honoured, sir."

"I'm sorry that I never informed you of this," Albert said to Hilda.

"I'm not really surprised that you didn't," she replied, a little sorely.

"I felt no need to bring it up at the time," he continued, as though still apologizing.

"Then why invite me here to tell me now?"

"Well, I can't expect you to lead an army you don't know of."

"I beg your pardon?"

"I had been planning on allowing a slower adjustment, but I'm afraid I haven't the energy to stand by you each day and teach you. Be that as it may, I trust your judgement. I have nothing to fear, leaving it in your – I believe – capable hands."

"I was under the impression Sir Sebastian would be in charge of this army," she admitted, feeling as though there must have been some kind of mistake.

"Sebastian is their commander. He will advise you in some military affairs, but the final decisions will be up to you."

Hilda sat back, a little stunned. Her father and others had always told her she was smart, that she could probably make a good strategist and such, but she'd never been trained in military things. She would be too out of her league. So lost in thought was she, that she barely heard the complaints voiced by other nobles and councillors present: about many of the same issues she was worried over, her skill and such; about how their soldiers wouldn't listen to a woman anyway, so even if she was capable, what was the point? And one voice, shy and thickly accented and rarely heard at such discussions, cut through and over the others to say, "I have faith in Princess Hilda. She has the support of his majesty, so what are you all arguing about?"

Hilda's eyes were tightly shut, her face burning with embarrassment over the fuss she was causing, but she grinned in appreciation of her supporter.

Her father spoke again. "I would think you would do best with another advisor at your side; not so much an advisor as a friend, much like Chancellor Clement was to me. I believe people lead best when they have friends near them."

Hilda understood; her father wanted to know who among the men present she considered a friend, he wanted her to pick someone she felt she could trust above the others. She hadn't been looking, but she knew who her supporter was. And okay, he hadn't been quite outspoken, but Hilda was looking for someone who would be a friend, not who would debate on her behalf. She glanced over at him and smiled. "Well, Minh has always been a good friend."

Tactically, it probably wasn't the best suggestion. She could have counted a handful of men that would have been a better choice, who hadn't said anything against her, even if they didn't stick up for her. Minh's lineage had Palamecian background: his father's people had lived in the desert near Palamecia; his father had been a high-ranking noble under the previous Palamecian emperor, and Minh, born of a Mysidian nobleman's daughter from a political marriage, had followed in those footsteps. When Phin and Palamecia were working at a peace treaty, Minh had been sent over as a delegate, because he was useful, but in a peaceful way, as a white mage, and because he wasn't particularly liked at home due to the Mysidian blood, from which he drew his strong magical power. Hilda had always liked Minh, felt a little sorry for him even, that he didn't belong anywhere he went.

Her father didn't even blink, just nodded and said, "Oh, good…"

* * *

Firion sat up and immediately regretted it. Holding his head, he slipped his legs from the blankets over them and stood up much slower to avoid the dizziness. It appeared to be a chapel he was in, with large panes of glass to let in lots of light, like usual, but currently covered in long, heavy drapes to keep it dark. There were a few other beds, with people sleeping in them, recovering from injuries, some of which he could see, others he couldn't. He examined himself to find a mostly-healed wound which had left only a dark line down his torso, but he could imagine what it had looked like before. A sigil glowed with a dim bluish-white light, etched onto the floor with what appeared to be regular ink, which impressed him somewhat; normally, mages required powerful things to make their sigils work, with magic in the materials, but this person apparently was a powerful mage.

Firion left the chapel, slowly shuffled down the flight of stairs, thinking he had forgotten something. It came back in a flood, the night he and the others had been chased down by the knights, when a sword had dug deep into his side and he had been sure that he couldn't survive.

He burst through the door that led to what he believed to be the main floor of a spacious mansion, looked around confusedly at a group of people from what appeared to be various walks of life, but all Phinian, and a bevy of guards that walked around as though looking for something to do.

It didn't take long to spot Maria's dark blue hair, and Guy's height. Firion stumbled over. Maria looked up, then jumped up o hug him, stopped herself before she knocked into him when she saw his tired face, and hugged him lightly. Guy hugged him next, lifting him right off his feet. "Firion, I was so worried," Maria muttered.

"Where's Leon?" Firion asked, still held up in Guy's arms.

"Um…He's not here." Maria sighed, plopped back down onto her seat. "Some of the princess's guards found us on their way around Phin, and took us and the other wounded here. We're in Altea; it's pretty far south. Apparently, they never found Leon."

Terrible thoughts went through Firion's head: was Leon dead? Had he left them? Was he a prisoner of war? Guy put him back down gently and Firion readjusted his shirt. "Perhaps we should thank the princess, hmm?"

* * *

They waited a moment before the guards returned and opened the door for them, leading to what had once been the family living room. It had been rearranged with the two matching blue armchairs at either side of the fireplace, like thrones, the long table the chairs had once framed pulled to the side, four chairs lining one side and facing out, for discussions between the councillors, Firion assumed. A thick carpet of red, black and gold colouring covered the floor, and small figurines of yellow stone and gold, and small cream-coloured vases sat upon the mantle and the tables. Large, leafy plants stood in the corners, and there were a few guards to be seen.

Guy wandered over to one side, where a mirror stood in a brass backing. Firion and Maria walked up to where Hilda sat and knelt before her.

Firion couldn't help himself; he glanced back up. Hilda was tall, mannishly so, and other girls had teased her when she was younger, but it made her even more elegant-looking, sprawled lightly on the chair. Generally, she would have had her hair pinned up, but today it was simply pulled back behind her ears, a small cord wrapped around her head just past her hairline, the long tresses, so pale they were more silver than gold, falling over her shoulders. Her dress was a plain gray-green. They didn't really look like clothes a princess would wear, or rather they looked as though they would normally accompany a more elaborate piece of clothing, like a long vest, or a translucent netting overtop. But then, Firion supposed, she couldn't have brought much of her wardrobe with her.

"Hello," Hilda said. "I remember you two, I think." There was a slight smile on her face, mostly in her eyes.

"You saved our lives, your Highness," Firion said. "We'd like to thank you."

"Oh I see. You're very welcome." Hilda's eyes scanned over the room to where Guy stood near the mirror. "Isn't he with you?"

"Yes," Maria muttered, looking over her shoulder and up at Guy from where she still knelt.

"Does he not wish to see me?" Hilda sounded more amused than insulted that Guy hadn't bothered to approach her.

"He's…a little different, you see? Like a little kid, up here." Maria tapped her forehead. "Sometimes he does or says things, and people take it the wrong way. Perhaps it's best…"

"I assure you, I wouldn't be insulted."

Maria turned and called, "Guy, do you want to meet the princess?"

Guy seemed to think about it, then nodded and walked up. He didn't kneel, just stood there with his thumbs hooked into his belt. "Hello, princess."

"Hello, Guy." Guy then let his attention wander around the room again.

"Your Highness," Maria started shyly, "may I ask you something?"

"Of course."

"My brother, Leon, was with us last I can remember. But he's not here. I don't know if you saw us yourself…"

"I did, actually. But there were only three of you." Hilda seemed confused. "If you'd like, I'll tell the scribe here to add Leon to the list of missing persons, but I'm afraid it won't do much good unless he's somewhere here in town."

"I would appreciate it if you did that, anyways," Maria admitted. "But you're right…it probably won't do anything."

Firion put an arm around Maria's shoulders as they got up in a one-armed hug. "It's okay. Leon can take care of himself better than any of us. And he was well enough to stand, to protect you, if I remember. Maybe…maybe he's with the Palamecians. It sounds bad, but at least they probably wouldn't kill him."

"Princess Hilda, please allow me to join the rebel cause," Firion said, somewhat out of the blue.

Hilda looked him up and down and laughed. "You aren't a soldier," she assured him. "You'd only be throwing your life away. You should stay here. If any of the guards give you any trouble, just say 'Wild Rose'. It's become our password, sort of." Her eyes glanced over at the large metal shield leaning against the front of the long table, embossed with the large red rose emblem of Phin.

* * *

Outside, the Altean people went about their daily work, glancing around them at the large packs of Phinian citizens that wandered through their town. Although there was no physical difference between the people – all pale, with blonde, brown or blue hair, and eyes of differing shades of gray and blue, brown for those from the southern areas – they dressed differently, the Alteans in more expensive and elaborate clothing, since most of them were well-off merchants that had left Phin to run their own government, the Phinians in plainer, more traditional, old-fashioned clothes.

Firion exited the large mansion, down the hill it was set on, through the gate of the waist-high stone wall that surrounded it, lined with bushes and high flowers on either side, onto the main street to see this, Maria and Guy following close behind.

"Well, let's have us a look at Altea, shall we?" he asked.

Guy smiled and ran down the road playfully, the other two trailing along behind him.


	3. Leon's Story, Part 1

**Chapter Three: Leon's Story, Part One**

The first thing Leon noticed when he woke up was that his hands were tied behind him. The ropes rubbed roughly against his wrists and his back was sore from the odd way he lay on his side. He was thirsty.

Opening his eyes, he found he was lying on the ground in the middle of what appeared to be a war camp. But that couldn't be quite right. The buildings here were too big and nicely furnished... his eyes caught a familiar street sign and he realized where they were. There were Palamecian men walking around in Phin City.

Over the course of the day, he was lifted and carried around to various spots, probably to be kept out of the way. He found himself rather complacent even for his usually calm-natured self, and thought they must have given him something, as he did seem quite tired. At one point, he was pulled to his feet and the bindings around his ankles were loosened so he could walk some on his own. He and a few other Palamecian captives were paraded over to the edge of a large square in the middle of the city and they waited. Leon looked around, thinking it was an opportune moment to try to escape, but then the street he was eying had three men standing in it, seemingly appearing from no where

A slight whine came to his ears after a few minutes, and he turned to look up and behind him. It appeared that a giant ship was floating through the sky, held aloft by propellers, apparently. It didn't look safe, and he had this nagging feeling that it could land on them at any moment. _At least that might get rid of some of these guys,_ he thought, then frowned when he remembered how resilient they seemed to be.

The flying ship landed in the square and a tall man with goggles pushed up to the top of his head came out a small door that opened to let down a shaky staircase. He walked up to the fully armoured Knight that still held Leon's arm and said, "Cid agreed to do it. But not for the regular price."

They began to negotiate money with huge sums that Leon thought sounded ridiculous, but evidently were not, as the knight quickly agreed with little bargaining and dragged Leon with him towards the stairs. Leon thought of running, but there were too many other knights around, and he realized that would be stupid. The stairs rattled under his feet as he plodded up them to the nice interior of the ship.

The Palamecians weren't given seats directly next to the window, but Leon could still see out of it, and was shocked not just at how high they were, but how fast they must have been going. The geography he was used to quickly disappeared, and at one point they were over an ocean. The trip felt long with his hands still tied uncomfortably tightly behind him, but it only took a few hours, and Leon would later appreciate the speed of it considering how far they had travelled.

He had no idea where they could possibly be, but when he got off the flying ship, the ground was hard, seeming to be mostly rock, and covered with a layer of sand that whipped up in the air around them as the ship's propellers turned back on. It was blisteringly hot, and Leon was soon sweating in his jacket. As he was marched forward by his one man escort, he looked around, trying to determine where in the world they were. So everything was rock and sand. There were few plants, and they were small and grouped together, not providing any shade. But rocks randomly jutted from the ground, and rocky walls were formed wherever one side of the valley was higher than the other, looking as though some parts had sunk. Next to these shelves and walls of rock were the only real places for shade. High mountains were to be seen not far away, with the tops of some old buildings before them.

The people nearby were generally tall with dark hair and eyes, and tanned skin, but much of their faces and hair was covered by headgear, and they wore loose robe-like clothing. When Leon thought of dark people dressed in such a way in hot sandy deserts, he thought of places like Mysidia and … Palamecia. And he knew that it wouldn't be Mysidia.

He was confused. Why were they brought all the way here, and only the few of them – a dozen or so? It seemed like a strange thing to do. It wasn't as though he would have any information to tell them. He struggled a little half-heartedly as they continued along, just for the sake of being difficult, but it made no difference. These dark-armoured guys were really strong!

Slowly, they were marched towards a large brooding building that from the looks of it, might have been the coliseum he had seen pictures of before. He sure hoped not.

* * *

It was definitely a coliseum. Leon was left in a small square room, one wall of which was just made of bars like in a cell, and the large open arena lay before him. A very large door was at the other end, and he knew enough stories of this place to assume it wouldn't have people behind it. Maybe it was some game the Palamecian nobles liked to play, to kill foreigners from places they attacked or subjugated. He could tell that the spectators were of high rank, all rather well-dressed and in large cushiony seats. The poor people had their own arena area, but he bet it wasn't this nice.

"Pick one."

Leon turned slowly to see a knight with a rack of various weapons and a few styles of shields. He froze for a moment, wondering which would be a better choice. He saw a sword that he liked, rather thin, and curved in a crescent shape, but then opted for a sturdier, more traditional short, wide-bladed one, like what he was used to. He considered a shield, but after a moment, he changed his mind and pointed for the short axe instead. If there was a hoard, which there probably would be, he would need to kill twice as fast, and a shield wouldn't protect his back. Besides, he thought that maybe it would be better to just die.

He shook his head quickly as the bars before him were raised, and the ones on the other side of the arena and on the walls either side of him followed suit. He tended to be overly realistic, to the point of pessimism, but he wasn't easily depressed; if there was ever a time to hang onto slim hope, now was it. After all, from the looks of his opponents, it could only get better from here.

They were huge, grey-green scaly lizards, each about two or three times the size of a large man. They came forward rather slowly on their short, bony-looking legs with long-toed feet, and one turned its head sideways to look at him, with the eye on the side of its head. A long red tongue flicked out.

A few other people appeared from their cells, each holding their weapons rather hesitantly. Some of them looked like trained fighters, many almost definitely Phinian from their clothes, but at the moment, they all looked as though they were seriously considering just killing themselves. From the looks of one cell, one man already had. Others had stayed in their cells, afraid.

When one of the lizards charged head first at Leon, with the little horn on its forehead pointed at him, Leon side-stepped quickly, all his depressing thoughts gone for a second. He took a quick jab at the thing's eye, then moved away from one very heavy foot and reached under its belly to kill it. He smiled a little, thinking that it hadn't been so hard to kill that one.

Indeed, the problem was more the sheer amount. There were dozens of them, and they could crush you. Even though they were slow enough to run from, eventually they were spread out where there was nowhere to run to. Leon ended up back-to-back with a tall man who had dark hair and eyes like the others here, but his clothes gave him away as Mysidian. They were cornered by the lizards.

"If we charge that one, we can run through the others!" Leon said, tightening his grip on his weapons. He ran straight for the narrow gap between the beasts and pushed one out of the way with a heavy blow from his axe. He was crashed into on his other side before he could run, and scrambled to get by before he was crushed to death. The Mysidian was close behind, and would have made it but for a long sticky tongue. When Leon looked behind him, he saw the man get stepped on by a large hind foot and a crack told him the man's back was broken. He would have killed him out of pity, but the lizards were already eating him.

He backed up, his head flying back and forth to make sure he didn't get caught by surprise by one of the lizards when a set of sharp talons dug painfully into his shoulders and lifted him partially into the air. He cursed himself for being stupid enough not to look up. The addition of his weight made the claws dig in deeper. He thrashed about, wishing he could kill the bird-like creature, but he couldn't manage to lift either arm. The creature's flying brought him up and down, and at one point he came to within a few inches of one of the lizards' large horns. He quickly curled his legs up, and smashed his axe into the thing's head on his way by.

He lifted his sword as high as he could, painfully, and dug the blade into the bird's leg; it let go of that shoulder, leaving him suspended on a slant. He then grabbed the leg as best he could without letting go of his weapon and pulled down on the leg to turn the bird, and the outstretched wings helped them glide quickly into the ground.

They ended up in one of the cells, one of the people who had stayed inside still there, though their legs had been eaten already by the lizards and they were now dead. Leon shook himself free of the bird, stabbing it repeatedly, then peeked outside.

Most of the sand was covered in blood. He knew he wouldn't stick out at least, his entire shirt and jacket drenched in his own blood by now from the wounds on his shoulders. The audience seemed to be enjoying it at least, even as one participant killed themself with a dagger before they could be eaten alive by the lizards. Leon ran at full throttle, not really caring if he got killed anymore. The pain in his shoulders was bad, but he could barely tell it was there as he got used to it after a few swings, everything just feeling numb. Pure adrenaline rushed through his body. He crashed in a skull, and watching it collapse entirely under his strength gave him a sense of satisfaction he had never known.

They weren't just lizards anymore. Large cat-like creatures were being let out now, and they were smaller, but much quicker, with thick skin and fur and claws that ripped off limbs, he saw, making him wary. He loved the feel of when the sword got past the tough hide and he could use all his strength to ram it as deeply into the creatures as possible, creating gouts of blood.

As others nearby slashed and hacked at things, and as dead things occasionally collapsed nearly on top of him, he became so covered in blood that he couldn't take it anymore. He dropped his weapons for a second to take off the gross jacket, watching it ooze as it hit the ground, and he was back at it. He would ram his foot down into something so hard its body would break. He stabbed with his sword until he cut out chunks and things were unrecognisable bloody messes. He barely noticed any injuries on himself, except one scratch that only nearly missed his eye.

He chased the thing down and used his axe to slam it into the red-stained sandy ground with a heavy chop. Then he knelt over it and stabbed and stabbed. Minutes went by after the thing was long dead, and still he continued to mutilate it, yelling and screaming in a bloodthirsty rage beyond anything resembling sane rage. He continued until he was tired and was suddenly thoroughly disgusted with himself when he looked down at what he had done. Then a noise behind him made him scared. He realized he had left his back exposed, and turned in time to see another bird swooping for him, dispatching it with his axe just in time, chopping it in half midair to leave a cloud of bloody feathers fluttering to the ground as he ran away from the awful scene.

Leon thought less and less about what he was doing, until it seemed like his body moved on its own. Anything that came anywhere near him was killed. One man ran by and lost his head to Leon's axe. Then, in his disgusting insanity, he used the head as a throwing weapon to stall one of the cats.

Hours might have passed. A cat mauled him badly at one point, ripping off his shirt entirely, and when Leon crashed into its head with an axe, he did so with such force that one long fang tooth was still embedded into his flesh just below the collarbone, although he didn't appear to notice. He continued to slash and hack at things until he dropped his axe of fatigue and dropped it on his leg, cutting himself. He held tightly to his sword and looked around. The lizard he had been attacking was dead. Looking around, he noticed everything was dead, except him. He kept turning, expecting more creatures to be released. But he slowly came down from his killing high.

One of the doors opened, and a heavily-armoured man came out, holding a hand up as though to tell Leon he did not mean to fight him. "It's over?" Leon asked. The knight never said anything, just held out his hand, perhaps not able to speak the language. Leon thought he was trying to get his weapons. Panting heavily still, he tried to think calmly, and decided to not bother fighting. He stared the knight in the eyes for a few seconds, and finally dropped his weapons.

The knight grabbed him in his strong grip and dragged him slowly out of the arena. Leon followed him slowly, feeling himself breaking out in a cold sweat. He had a feeling that most of the animals and a lot of the people had been killed by him, and he felt somehow worse about the Phinian soldiers.

They passed through one of the doors in the coliseum, heading down a dark stone hallway, and the bar door clanged shut behind them.

* * *

Leon sat quietly on a cot in a small cell. A large window, with bars to keep him in, let in lots of light, and the sheets on the cot were white and clean. He was surprised at the hospitality. They had cared for him, treating his wounds, and giving him a meal a while ago. He had been worried and suspicious about it at first. He had heard of people that treated their prisoners before they executed them. But for some reason, he had a feeling that their care was genuine.

He glanced up over his shoulder at the window, watching the dust dance in the bars of light, trying to breathe calmly and evenly, so as not to move his torso with all its injuries. He wondered what was going to happen to him.


End file.
